


Drunk in Love

by Lexebug



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alien Gender/Sexuality, F/F, M/M, Marriage, Mutual Pining, these gals will be the death of me i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexebug/pseuds/Lexebug
Summary: Oops i forgot i wrote this, a lovely gift for my moirail that i forgot i made IM SORRY





	Drunk in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maleficentWatermelon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maleficentWatermelon/gifts).



Kanaya was so, so far in love that it was beginning to hurt. She hadn’t been able to focus in “weeks” as Dave called it, and it was terrible. 

Because Kanaya was just trying to survive these three human years on the meteor, and Rose Lalonde had the utter audacity to be beautiful, and beautifully distracting. She would be working on a simple cross stitch exercise, perfectly fine, perfectly focused, and Rose would walk into the room, and Kanaya would stab her finger with the needle in her fervor to greet her. She’d be watching movies with the others on the meteor, and Rose would lean against her the tiniest bit and her heart would flutter, and she would almost feel Karkat’s questioning gaze on her, but she’d ignore him in favor for enjoying how warm Rose was against her side. Sometimes, she’d light up just for Rose, because she knew how much she loved it when she did. Rose would clap and laugh, and Kanaya was melting. She was melting, and she was going to be nothing but a puddle soon, and all because of human sexuality. 

Kanaya had, of course, heard Dave talking about it with Karkat; she had stronger ears than any human’s, and anyway, Karkat wasn’t exactly quiet. Apparently, the humans were dictated by gender, and on who they could or could not love. Dave formerly claimed to not be one of the males who was attracted to other males, but considering the time Kanaya walked in on them kissing, it may have changed slightly. 

Typically, the females loved the males, and vice versa. Therefore, Kanaya was doomed. Doomed, doomed, doomed. She was driven into the ground, the coffin was sealed, and her life was even more over than before. She might as well have been triple-dead. Because every time Rose got into the alcohol, she talked about one subject more than others; John. 

She missed him, apparently. A lot. Why wasn’t John here, Kanaya could you get John please, I miss him, et cetera. And it always had to involve Rose curled up close to Kanaya, very close, sometimes crying onto her skirt, sometimes passed out in her lap, sometimes with her face nuzzled in the crook of Kanaya’s neck, snoring gently. It made Kanaya flush bright green, and her hands tremble. She wanted to hold Rose, so gently, cradle her in the night and keep her safe and warm and never let anyone hurt her, the way a matesprit was supposed to. She also wanted to strangle John Egbert, and not in the fun spades way. More in the murder-y way. The “you stole my girlfriend, prepare to die” way, like in that movie Dave made her watch. She had enjoyed it, mostly because she had imagined Rose as Buttercup and herself as Wesley. It was a good daydream. Never to happen, but good.

Because Rose was, literally and figuratively, a goddess. She was so smart, constantly reading, always recommending books to Kanaya, teaching the trolls about human history. Gentle, too, carefully lifting her ecto-brother and carrying him to his respite-block when he passed out at his turntables after too many nights of no sleep, holding Terezi’s hand when she lost her cane and guiding her along the hallways to where she dropped it. Kanaya saw the way Rose’s eyes lit up when she got to a good part of a book, when she made a breakthrough in her psychology research. She was so strong, Kanaya saw. And she was still so fragile.

Most nights, it turned to the same page; Rose, stretched on the biggest loungeplank, a near-empty glass in hand and tears in her eyes. Kanaya holding her head in her lap, smoothing back her hair and whispering sweet, calming words to her while Rose sobbed about incoherent things. She told Kanaya one night that she could still feel it sometimes, feel the Grimdark in her veins, like it was a bubble ready to pop. She had made a motion then, drunk and sloppy, a little explosion of her fingers. Pop. Kanaya had promised her that if it came for her, she’d fight it off, and Rose drained her glass and wiped her eyes, and fell asleep mumbling thanks to Kanaya. Kanaya fell asleep sitting up, trying to count the faint freckles scattered across Rose’s nose and cheeks. 

One night, the same familiar scene was being played out, from the beginning this time; Rose was topping off a glass with clear, vile-smelling liquid, and sipping from it delicately, as if she had any intentions of continuing her consumption that way. Kanaya sighed inwardly and ceased pinning the piece she was working on, in favor of following Rose to the designated movie room. She had already turned on the TV, one of Karkat’s romcoms playing. Kanaya sat next to her, and Rose scooted closer, grabbing her hand. Kanaya stifled a shiver, and Rose took a swig of her drink. 

“Kanaya, Kanaya, look, look at this,” she said, the beginnings of a slur already sneaking into her voice. “They’re in love.”

“Yes, Rose, they are,” Kanaya said patiently, studying exactly the way Rose’s hair fell against her forehead. 

“Kanaya, have you ever been in love?” Rose turned to her, eyes wide and desperate, pupils wide. For lack of a good response, Kanaya pulled her hand up and kissed the back of it, softly, making Rose giggle. “What does it feel like?” 

God, she knew she was blushing, and her hands had started to glow, her control over her glow slipping. “It feels… well, it feels like you’re all warm inside. Like a blanket, for your heart. Does that make sense?” Rose nodded earnestly, and Kanaya brushed her lips against Rose’s palm this time. 

“Tell me more?” Rose asked, and the question in her voice was irresistible.

“When you trust someone completely, with your whole heart and mind. You want to spend time with them, learn about their interests, learn about them. You can’t get enough of them.” Kanaya leaned down, kissed Rose’s cheek. She ran a hand along her soft jawline, resting her palm there and smiling at the Seer.

“Kanaya, how do you know if you’re in love?” Rose whispered, and Kanaya could smell the liquor on her breath, knew she was far enough gone that there was a good chance she wouldn’t remember this. 

“I think it’s up to you. You have to know yourself. If… If you think you’re in love with him, then I am happy for you.” Rose blinked at her, slowly, like a confused meowbeast. It was adorable, even if Kanaya’s heart was currently being rent in two. To stop herself from crying, Kanaya brushed her fingers through Rose’s hair, pulling the headband out and setting it aside. She carded through it, like silk, like she was touching something precious. 

“Who are you talking about, Kanaya?” Rose said, her voice shaking.

“Who else, dear? John. You always talk about him; I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you when we land.” She did her best to keep the biting bitterness out of her tone. Rose pulled back from Kanaya’s hands, and started giggling. Then laughing. 

“Kanaya, you silly, I’m not in love with John! But he’s my best friend, and I miss him! And Jade, too! But I’m not in love with either of them.” Kanaya stared at her, with her head still thrown back in laughter. She leaned forward, and Rose stopped. Her eyes, Kanaya realized, had fallen. They weren’t as light as they always used to be. Kanaya pecked her on the forehead, and Rose chuckled, sudden tears making their way down her cheeks.

“Kanaya, it’s okay,” she whispered, pressing a hand on Kanaya’s shoulder to push her away. “You don’t have to love me.” And Rose was crying now, tears dripping off her chin and onto Kanaya’s collarbone as Kanaya grabbed her and pulled her in. Rose’s arms wrapped around her like a vice, and Kanaya shushed her quietly as she sobbed into her shoulder. Slowly, Rose drifted off into an obviously uneasy sleep. Kanaya stayed awake that night, watching shitty romcoms and stroking soft blonde hair.

The next morning, she helped Rose up from the couch to the bathroom, wiped her face of the tear tracks and the spilled liquor, made sure she brushed her teeth and ate some toast before she gave her the pain medication Dave had alchemized. Rose laid her head on the table, and Kanaya helpfully draped a blanket over it. “Kanaya, I’m sorry about last night. I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Rose said into the table top, voice muffled by the blanket. 

“You-you remember what happened?” Rose pulled the blanket off her head and nodded miserably, leaning backwards. Kanaya’s mouth was going very dry, very fast. “And… did you mean what you said?” Rose nodded again, slumping forward this time. It was true, it was true, this was really happening. There were angels singing in the background, she was sure of it.

In a flash, Kanaya had stretched across the table and grabbed Rose’s face in her hands, pulling her closer. “Rose Lalonde, I sincerely return your feelings, and I wish I had known sooner, and may I kiss you?” Rose stared, her cheeks comically squished. She nodded, and Kanaya pressed their lips together, finally, finally. 

It was worth it even if Kanaya could taste the day-old vodka on her lips, and Rose’s hands were clumsy and unstable, tugging painfully on the hairs at the nape of her neck, and the edge of the table was digging into her stomach. It was worth it in any situation, because Kanaya kissed Rose Lalonde, and human sexuality wasn’t even a problem in this equation. 

It was worth it three sweeps later, when Kanaya was looking over the carefully-tailored suit and her carefully made-up fiancee, underneath the not-so-carefully made lacy arch that Roxy had thought she could weave (she couldn’t, but the effort was well appreciated). There wasn’t a preacher, save for Karkat, who was currently overcome with emotion and was crying in John’s arms. There were fallen leaves scattered along the ground, in the reds and oranges that Kanaya had never gotten to see before Earth C. Dirk had dusted Rose’s face with light purple blush and eyeshadow, and Kanaya with, fittingly, jade green. Rose smiled at her, and Kanaya smiled back, and brought their lips together. The romantic moment was accompanied by a loud sob from Karkat, and then a scream from Terezi. Rose pulled back and waved to the crowd that was there, at the smiling faces, never letting go of Kanaya’s hand. Kanaya beamed at her wife, at her matesprit, at her everything, in the warm autumn sun and the sweet glow of the afternoon.


End file.
